


Support

by SeiShonagon



Series: Support [9]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cults, Episode Tag: s01e05: Danse Vaudou, Established Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Magic, Magical Artifacts, Mentor/Protégé, Missing Scene, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Training, Visions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3896491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeiShonagon/pseuds/SeiShonagon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Among the other events of "Danse Vaudou," John, Chas, and Zed truly coalesce as a team for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Support

When John emerges from the upper hallway with his bags packed for New Orleans, he glances over the railing to find Zed bent over the map once more, one hand splayed over it and touching the red spots scattered across the United States and the other hand buried in her hair, clutching her head as if in pain. He hurries down the stairs. “Hey now, love, what’s this? We have our destination—”

He stops short when Zed’s head comes up suddenly, as if she hasn’t heard him coming. Her eyes are a little wild. He approaches her slowly, then, watching closely for signs of panic or intruding visions.

Turns out, visions are the last thing he needs to be watching for.

“Why couldn’t I see anything earlier, John? It isn’t supposed to require hypnosis. It never has before.” There is a rasp in her voice, as if she’s already exhausted.

John shrugs. “Things come and go. Magic’s funny, sometimes, since it’s bound up with your own energy, almost anything around or inside you could affect it. It’ll be back, clamoring for attention again before you know it.”

Her lips purse, and she looks dissatisfied, even angry, and she runs her fingers once more over the spots on the map. He pulls it from the table and folds it carefully.

“Quit that, love, no need to exhaust yourself completely before you even start. We need you healthy for this.”

“And here I thought you just needed me for visions here and there.” She’s sarcastic, but her voice goes up in a slight question at the end, and John looks at her sharply, taking in the way she avoids looking directly at him, standing with her shoulders slightly hunched.

What is the world coming to, he thinks acerbically, when John Constantine is expected to be the stable and confident one in the room – he is not cut out for this. “Dammit, Zed, if you need a touchy-feely teacher, find yourself another mentor. I don’t think you need kid gloves, though, you’re just a little shaken now, is all.”

“You’re an asshole, John,” she says in response.

“Guilty,” he says with a grin. He lights a cigarette to drive it home, enjoying the way she wrinkles her nose and tries not to chuckle.

She quickly becomes serious, though, and her next words are quiet. “I hope you have some contingency plan if I can’t see things for you when you need it, at some point. I don’t want people to get hurt because of me.”

John looks at her carefully. Her brows are drawn together, focused inward. It’s been years since he went through this stage, when he’d first started doing things just advanced enough that occasionally he lost control, or nothing worked at all, and he remembers the unpleasant moments of panic at the thought that magic might have deserted him altogether.

What had Anne-Marie done for him then? He thinks hard to remember, then snaps his fingers.

“Let’s go back a couple of steps, get the juices flowing, then let this go for the time being, love. Can’t let this stew too long.” He strides past her and skims the shelves for some useful items, and eventually pulls down a large wooden chest and a small leather bag.

Zed is staring at him as though he’s gone completely crazy. “Do we have time for this?” she asks.

John shrugs and cups his hands around his mouth. “Oi! Chas!” he bellows. “You still packing supplies for the road, mate?” When an affirmative drifts down from the direction of the kitchen, John turns back to Zed. “We have a bit, then.”

He removes his tie. “I’m going to blindfold you to improve your focus. In the bag here are a number of medallions. They were all used as personal symbols by practitioners of alchemy in medieval Europe. I want you to tell me what you can about each one – when they lived, where, what they worked with, whatever you can. Now hold out your hand.”

He should be terrified, John thinks, at how readily she holds out her bare hands to him, when she can’t see. He’ll have time for that later, though – for now, other things are more urgent.

One by one, he drops the small metal pieces into her hands, and she breathes, reciting first just descriptions, then names and family information, then descriptions of cities, and eventually is able to rattle off one or two complex formulas, before pulling off the blindfold and staring in confusion at the object in her palm. “I don’t even understand what I just said.”

“Neither do I. Alchemy never made much sense to me.” He puts the medallions away and re-ties his tie. “One more, and then we’re done for the day. Got it?” When she nods, he opens the chest. “These are journals kept rather more recently by a group of occultists. I want you to navigate past any protections they might have against being read this way, and tell me the thing in each one that was most important to its author.”

All of the journals are small books bound in leather. Many have locks, some open, some not. None have names visible, which makes sense. John hopes Zed remembers the discussions they’ve had concerning the power of names.

He hands her one of the books, and she focuses before raising her eyes and speaking. “The transcendence of humankind, by achieving singularity, whatever that means.”

John gives a half-smile. “Your guess is as good as mine, love – that one belonged to a mate of mine.” He hands her another.

“The… the presence of the sacred in the world, the healing power of sacred promises.”

John can only nod, switching Anne-Marie’s journal for another, and they repeat the process a few more times. When there are two books left in the box, he hesitates for a long moment.

She may not be ready for the memories of one of these people, he decides – and he knows he isn’t either. He lays one of the journals carefully back in the box, touching the cover with something approaching affection, before taking a deep breath and handing her the other one.

She breathes in sharply upon touching it, and her eyes widen as she takes in more information about him than he’d ever thought to share with her before today.

She closes her eyes at the rush of images. “All of it. Everything magic. There’s no one thing here. Trick question.” Her eyes fly open. “John, this…” she trails off. He takes the book from her.

“So, you see, I get it. I know what it’s like, having the magic itself be so important. But you have to learn, it comes and goes. If it goes at a point when we need it, well, we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. You handle yourself reasonably well even without the visions.”

She looks, if anything, even more shocked, and he wonders how often people have told her she’s useful for things other than her power.

John reaches out instinctively to grip her arms and give her a shake to get his next point through, but before he touches her he realizes his mistake and dropping his hands to his hips. He sighs, then gathers himself for a lecture, and lets the importance of his next words sink through his tone.

“Listen to me, Zed, and listen good. It took Newcastle for me to get this, but you’re smart. All this,” he gestures around him as if to encompass all the wonders of the mill house and possibly more, “this is just stuff we learn, the tools of the trade. Your abilities, my abilities – same thing, just tools. It’s the choices we make, that define us. I’ve been doing what I do since before I ever laid eyes on most of what I have, or learned to do what I do now. I’ll be doing it long after I’ve forgotten more than I know now, if I live that bloody long. Your visions may come and go. It’s up to you, if you want to let that define who you are. If you want to do the same, do it. Your visions don’t define your ability to do things that matter, unless you let them.” He runs down at last, and his eyes are focused on hers.

She’s clearly going to have to process that one, but they have time, he hopes.

Because there’s Chas calling, and it’s time to leave for Louisiana.

As she passes him to climb the stairs, John shakes out the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding, and spares a wry thought to wonder how he got here, and what kind of powers would have the sense of humor to give anyone John Constantine as a source of support.

**Author's Note:**

> 1: This was the story idea I got first, for this series, because this was the episode where I first really noticed and delighted in the team dynamic.
> 
> 2: Re: chapter 1. The alchemists' medallions are based on a real set which I had the opportunity to handle once as part of an undergraduate class. I'll leave it to you to figure out the journals.


End file.
